HOW SAMUEL TITMARSH REACHED THE HIGHEST POINT OF PROSPERITY
If I had the pen of a George Robins, I might describe the Rookery properly: suffice it, however, to say it is a very handsome country place; with handsome lawns sloping down to the river, handsome shrubberies and conservatories, fine stables, outhouses, kitchen-gardens, and everything belonging to a first-rate rus in urbe, as the great auctioneer called it when he hammered it down some years after.
I arrived on a Saturday at half-an-hour before dinner: a grave gentleman out of livery showed me to my room; a man in a chocolate coat and gold lace, with Brough’s crest on the buttons, brought me a silver shaving-pot of hot water on a silver tray; and a grand dinner was ready at six, at which I had the honour of appearing in Von Stiltz’s dress-coat and my new silk stockings and pumps.
Brough took me by the hand as I came in, and presented me to his lady, a stout fair-haired woman, in light blue satin; then to his daughter, a tall, thin, dark-eyed girl, with beetle-brows, looking very ill-natured, and about eighteen.
“Belinda my love,” said her papa, “this young gentleman is one of my clerks, who was at our ball.”
“Oh, indeed!” says Belinda, tossing up her head.
“But not a common clerk, Miss Belinda,—so, if you please, we will have none of your aristocratic airs with him. He is a nephew of the Countess of Drum; and I hope he will soon be very high in our establishment, and in the city of London.”
At the name of Countess (I had a dozen times rectified the error about our relationship), Miss Belinda made a low curtsey, and stared at me very hard, and said she would try and make the Rookery pleasant to any friend of Papa’s. “We have not much monde to-day,” continued Miss Brough, “and are only in petit comité; but I hope before you leave us you will see some société that will make your séjour agreeable.”
I saw at once that she was a fashionable girl, from her using the French language in this way.
“Isn’t she a fine girl?” said Brough, whispering to me, and evidently as proud of her as a man could be. “Isn’t she a fine girl—eh, you dog? Do you see breeding like that in Somersetshire?”